This is a work of fan fiction. All characters and locations are the property of their owners. The story line belongs to me.
Chapter 7- Now That’s What I Call a Party
“Lavender, where are you taking me?” Hermione asked in a nervous tone. The two women had been spending a lot of time together in the week since Lavender had filed for divorce. Now they were quickly approaching the junction of Diagon and Knockturn Alleys. Hermione was sure that she didn’t want to be seen on Knockturn Alley; it could devastate her career. Lavender just winked though, and led her on through the crowd.
“Trust me dear, this is where we’re going to find that finishing touch.” Lavender pushed her way through the last throng of people and stopped outside a shop called ‘Miss Madelaine’s Magical Toy Box’. Hermione stopped cold. In the windows were undergarments: some lacey, some leather, and some that looked to be made of candy. Also in the window was a shirt, displayed front and back. On the front it said, “Co-Ed Naked Quidditch- We Ain’t Just Polishing Broomsticks,” and showed a pair of crossed broomsticks and the four Quidditch Balls. On the back it showed seven people in various states of undress and it said, “Grab Your Snitch and Go!”
“I-” Hermione heard the stammer in her voice and felt herself blush. “I can’t go in there.” Lavender opened the door for her. “What if…I see somebody I know?”
“Then you’ll both have all kinds of gossip on each other. Come on dear.” Lavender smiled, and yanked her through the door. Hermione tugged on her blouse and straightened her coat, she wanted to present the most upstanding image she could, on the off chance that she saw somebody she knew. “Whatever you do,” Lavender whispered to her, “don’t tell the counter girl you’ve never been in a place like this before.” Hermione started to say something, but Lavender dragged her over to a rack of underwear.
“Let’s find something for Ron to wear tonight,” she said with a wicked smile. Hermione reached forward tentatively and picked up a box. On the front was a picture of a nearly naked man, a model one at that. The most striking thing about him though, was the underwear he was wearing. It looked like an elephant head, and it didn’t take a great deal of imagination to realize what was inside the trunk. Hermione couldn’t help herself- she giggled.
Lavender looked over to see what she was looking at and laughed. “Those are cute, but when the elephant decides to feed himself, the guys usually don’t find it all that funny.”
Hermione almost asked why, then snorted a laugh when she thought about the way an elephant feeds itself in comparison to male anatomy. “Never mind.” She shoved the box back into the rack. She found a Norwegian Ridgeback skin thong she thought Ron would look good in and was considering it when Lavender tapped her shoulder.
“How about these?” Hermione looked over to see a box labeled ‘Weasel’s Wicked Wonders- Chocolate Cake Flavored Edible Knickers for Men’. She gasped. She couldn’t, they couldn’t, that box didn’t say… “What’s the matter Hermione?”
“I, I thought that box said Weasley for a second.” Hermione breathed a tremendous sigh of relief. Lavender laughed and opened the box. Inside was a black satin men’s thong that said ‘Happy Birthday,’ in hot pink letters.
“This will be perfect,” Lavender said. “It’s in terribly bad taste, but should taste pretty good. Their ‘Cherry Pie’ was excellent.”
“Their what?”
“Cherry Pie.” Lavender reached into the next rack over and pulled out another box. “See?” On the box was a woman wearing a G-String that looked like a piece of cherry pie. Lavender laughed as Hermione blushed. “Let’s go wander around a bit.”
Lavender was like a kid in a candy store, picking up games and holding up pieces of lingerie. Hermione, on the other hand, couldn’t take two steps without seeing something new that made her blush. She thought that she and Ron were becoming kind of adventurous, but realized she wouldn’t have the first clue as to what to do with a set of fully animated Arms of Kali. The picture looked interesting, but Hermione was pretty sure she would never have the need for four extra arms in the bedroom. Lavender led her over to a shelf of phallic shaped devices. “So dear, show me what I’m in for tonight.”
Hermione scanned over the shelf, careful trying not to think too much about what she was doing, and picked up one of the mid-range to longer models. It felt very comfortable in her hand, almost strangely familiar. She hefted it a couple of times and wrapped two hands around it. “A lot like that.” She handed it over.
“Wow,” was all Lavender said before handing it back. She stopped and looked at the end. “And they call this ‘The Little Brother’.” Hermione choked and looked at the bottom, plain as day was the label. She put it back, not wanting to think about what the big brother would be like. They walked over to the counter to make their final purchases.
“Lavender,” Hermione whispered. “What is ‘Essence of School Girl’?”
Lavender grinned. “A modified version of Polyjuice potion that makes you look sixteen for a couple of hours. You can also buy it in a kit that comes with plaid skirts or Hogwarts’ uniforms.” Hermione was almost offended, but knew that such fetishes were not uncommon.
“Hey Lavender, how’s it going?” asked the girl at the counter.
“Fine.” Hermione was glad she had a coat on, because icy would be a mild way to describe Lavender’s tone. The girl rang the rest of the sale up without a word except to give the total and make change. Hermione picked up an interesting looking book called ‘Quidditch in the Bedroom’ and paid for it and Ron’s new underwear. The girl at the counter gave her a humoring smile as she accepted her money, and soon the women were on their way.
“What was that all about?” Hermione asked.
“Last time I saw her, she was wiping Seamus off her lips. Cow.” Lavender took a deep breath.
“Let’s go get some lunch and then send Ron his present.”
———–
Ron was just packing up and getting ready to go home, when an unrecognized owl dropped a small package on his desk. The owl didn’t even wait for a treat, just kept right on going. “Well, what have we got here?” Ron asked the empty room, assuming it was from his wife. He flipped the package over and opened the delivery card. On the card was a loopy *********** he did not recognize. Written in light purple ink were the words, “Change into these before you get home. Trust me.”
Ron was feeling charitable and trusting as he opened the package. After all, why shouldn’t he be in a good mood? He’d turned twenty-eight today, and everybody in the Cannon’s organization had shown up to celebrate his birthday at an office party earlier that day. They had also brought cake and Wizarding Crackers. All in all, it was a good party and he was in very high spirits. Inside the package was a bit of black cloth with hot pink letters that said ‘Happy Birthday.’ He held it up. “What the hell?”
“It looks like a thong,” answered Maureen, the Cannon’s seeker. Ron stuffed the offending bit of cloth into his pocket and tried to stammer something, but Maureen just laughed at him. She pulled a five-Pound note out of her purse. “Can I slip this in your waistband dearie?” she teased him. Ron put a hand to his face to cover his embarrassment. “The girls in the locker room ought to get a kick out of this.” Ron looked up in horror, only to see that she was already sprinting back to the team changing area.
He was going to kill his wife, or whomever it was that had sent that to him. At least, he hoped it was his wife as he slipped into the bathroom stall and pulled on the very small piece of cloth. It took a bit of getting used to, having the thin strip of fabric running up his crack, but he liked the way that he filled out the front well enough. Well, if Hermione hadn’t sent it to him, he hoped she’d appreciate the gift anyway.
When he walked through the front door there was no fanfare, his wife did not greet him with a kiss, and no one was there to shout ‘surprise!’ He was a little disappointed. His birthday was his favorite day of the year and it had always been met with much fanfare. “Hello?” he called, but there was no answer. He walked in and draped his jacket over the back of the chair and dropped his briefcase on the table. “Anyone home?” There was no response. He was starting to get a little concerned; Hermione hadn’t been at work today and he hadn’t heard from her at all. He tripped over something on the floor.
He looked down and saw a single black pump. Looking across the room, a line of clothes drew a path to his bedroom door at the top of the stairs. He kicked off his shoe and left it next to Hermione’s. On the couch was another. Draped over his recliner was a stocking; and a second hung from the banister leading up to his room. On the stairs he found her skirt, next to which he dropped his trousers. A scarf lay in the hall; he dropped his tie on top of it. Finally, her blouse lay in a heap in front of his the bedroom door.
Standing there in just his newly acquired under-garment, he pushed the door open. It was dark within. Suddenly the light came on with a shout of “Surprise!”
Ron moved immediately to cover himself. Hermione laughed; it was only her. “Don’t be so modest dear,” she said. “Nice knickers. Where did you get them?”
“You mean they aren’t from you?”
“Oh come now dear; black satin with hot pink lettering? I think I have better taste than that.” She smiled at him. “But I must say though, it is very becoming on you. The pink really sets off your hair.” She tugged at a hair sticking out over the top. She smirked at him, and his jaw dropped.
He had just noticed what she was wearing, or almost wearing as it were. She was adorned with several veils of colored silk. Around her waist she wore a gold chain, over which several scarves had been draped so as to cover her essentials, but left her legs and hips naked. Around her chest was fastened a single scarf to “cover” her breasts, but the material was hardly thick or dense enough to do that. All it succeeded in doing was deepening her cleavage and giving her erect nipples something to push against. Behind her, swaths of sheer fabric hung from the ceiling and had been draped to look like a pavilion tent.
His eyes fell back to her and drank her in. She smiled coyly, and shook her hips causing several small bells to jingle. “Do you like it?”
“Honey, I’m going to need a thousand nights to do to you everything I want to do.” He reached for her, but she spun away from him and bells on her ankles jingled as well. As she turned, she pulled a long scarf from the back of the ensemble, leaving only a single, wide scarf covering her derriere. He whistled in appreciation. Middle-eastern style music began playing quietly. She danced around behind him, and pulled the scarf over his eyes.
He could see through it, but now the entire room was a lavender hue, and his vision was slightly obscured. She pulled him backward with the ends she had in her hands, and he stumbled into a chair. She tied the scarf in place and rolled across his lap. “Ah-ah,” she chided him when he tried to stand up.
She continued to dance around in front of him, and pulled another scarf, this one from the front. She had a few others there, so he still couldn’t see anything, but her movements were flamboyant and came very close to exposing a great deal. She trailed the scarf across her chest and then across his. She left it draped over his shoulder as she ran a single finger across his body.
With the next veil, she placed one end in his mouth and then dropped to the floor. The scarf pulled away smoothly. She spun after standing up so the two scarves in front flared out, offering glimpses of the secrets that were hidden beneath.
The one after that left her covered only by three of the veils- one in front, one in back, and one on top. He was marveling at his view of her until she wrapped the veil that she had just removed around his eyes. It was harder to see now, though not impossible.
She guided his hands to the knot that bound the veil about her chest. When he loosened it, she spun out of it then shimmied in front of him. He smiled and reached out to fondle her. She chided him again, and loosely bound his hands to the arms of the chair he was sitting in. He played along with her now, straining against the bindings but not enough to pull free. She teased him as well, sliding her bare chest across his back and shoulders while blowing on his neck.
She freed the veil over her backside, and wrapped it around his eyes as well. He could barely see now, but could still make out the shape of her body as she writhed and spun and shook before him. She settled herself lightly on his lap, and ground against him. He strained against the fabric that was restraining him, but she moved away. Not able to see very well, he began to focus on his other senses. The smell of her in the air was spicy and musky. The sound of her continuously tinkling bells was hypnotic. His nerve endings were alive from every tantalizing touch she brushed over him.
He could see her in silhouette now as she danced before him. He could see her raising something in front of her, and he could only assume it was the final veil. She spun toward him and before he could even protest she had wrapped it around his eyes so he could not see at all. She teased him mercilessly now. Light touches drifted over his skin and feather light kisses touched his cheeks, ears, neck, and shoulders.
“I’m going to untie you now,” she whispered in his ear. “Then, you will follow the sound of my bells.” As much as he wanted to grab her and take her right here in the chair, he knew how much she was enjoying this. It also explained why she hadn’t gotten home until late every night for the last two weeks. He was glad that he had held his tongue about it.
He heard the jingle of her bells a few feet away. He stood up slowly, careful not to fall over in his disoriented and highly aroused state. He wasn’t the most coordinated of people even in the best of situations. He could smell her in the air as he shuffled forward, and just as he was about to bump into her, she blew on his chest. He stopped and stood very still, then there was a thump near his feet. “This doesn’t look very comfortable. Let me help you with that.”
Her mouth closed over the material he was straining against. He could feel her mouth moving, though she wasn’t moving up and down on it. It was more like she was chewing. The material was getting damp and warm from her mouth. Then he felt her lips directly on him. “What do you know?” she said. “They work. Tasted like birthday cake.” There was a draft that he could feel now that his bit of material didn’t cover him. He felt her finger on his lips, and sucked it in. What he ended up with was a bit of cloth; that sure enough, tasted like chocolate birthday cake. He’d have to remember those.
He heard the creak of their mattress and assumed she had climbed up on the bed. He heard the jingling of bells and felt his way forward through the fabric curtains. He crawled across the bed, listening carefully to the sounds she was making to lead him on. When his head bumped against her, he stopped. “Turn over and lay down,” she whispered in his ear after running her tongue over it for several seconds. He shivered, and complied with her wishes.
“What are you doing?” he asked when he heard the tinkling of bells.
“Taking off the waist chain.”
“Don’t.” He felt her hand take his and settle it against her stomach. She slid it down and it caught on the chain with its dozens of little charms.
“Is that what you want?”
“Almost,” he replied, and let his hand trail lower to run over the warmth that he could not see. She let out a pleasant moan. He felt the bed shift, and her knees settled on either side of his head. His senses were assaulted by the strong scent of her, just above his nose. He inhaled deeply, and savored the sensation that he normally didn’t pay that much attention to. Placing his fingers on the gold chain around her waist he pulled her down onto his mouth.
Her taste was delectable, succulent, and she ground against him. When she was good and wet he shifted up just a bit and sucked her clit between his lips; her pubic hair tickled his nose. “Oh yes,” she called out, and ran her fingers around the back of his head. He still couldn’t see, but for this he didn’t need to. He ran his hands up her body and cupped her breasts in his hands.
He jumped as something wet touched the head of his cock, then slid down it. He knew there was no way that it could be his wife, he had his hands on her tits, which were directly above his face. Then he felt the unmistakable pressure of breasts against his thighs. He brought his hands to his face and tore at the blindfolds. Once he had pulled all four of them away, he saw his wife looking down at him with a devilish smile. “Happy Birthday, Honey.”
The unknown cock-sucker chose the exact moment he was going to respond to swallow him. His appreciation came out as a gurgle in the back of his throat. Hermione lifted up off of his face, “Keep your eyes closed.” She slithered down and stretched out cross ways to him. The other woman crawled around to the side opposite Hermione, but never released his cock. Ron groaned, she was talented, he had to give her that.
“Lavender sweet, would you like some help with that?” Ron opened his eyes and lifted his head; he wanted to see this. Lavender lifted her mouth from his cock, but not before leaving a bright red lipstick ring around it. She winked at him then turned to Hermione. He watched as their lips came together, just above the point of his cock. Their tongues wrestled, they nipped and sucked on each other’s lips. Ron was sure that if there was a heaven, this had to be it.
Then they moved lower, their tongues and lips continued to touch and tease; only now his prick was in between them. Their lips closed over his head, and their tongues danced over him and each other. One of the girls was stroking him, the other tickling his scrotum. He couldn’t tell who was who though, because his brain was working independently to the rest of his body. It was focused entirely on his groin, and the muscles in his neck didn’t seem to want to respond. His vocal chords were working though, and making sure that the girls knew just how much he appreciated what they were doing.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think he likes this,” he heard Lavender say. Hermione swallowed his cock in one smooth stroke, then pulled back up off of it.
“No, it’s your imagination. I know what I’d like though.” She leaned forward and kissed Lavender. Ron propped himself up so he could watch. He could watch this all night if they kept it up. However, they returned to sucking his cock in tag team. One would hold and stroke him while the other licked and sucked him. Then they returned to kissing around the head of his cock. It didn’t take very much of this until he knew that he didn’t have a hope of holding out very long.
“I’m getting close,” he groaned. One of the girls, Lavender he realized, slowed down. Hermione redoubled her efforts though. She reached out a finger and pulled Lavender back into their cock filled kiss. He couldn’t take it anymore, the sight of his wife kissing another woman, combined with the physical sensations of what their combined lips and tongues were doing, was more than he could take. His head dropped back on to the pillow and he let out a loud groan. His cock erupted like a geyser. He felt some, but not all, of it splash on his stomach. Tongues and lips quickly attacked the errant splatters as fingers and nails teased his nipples, balls, cock and other areas of exposed flesh.
When he could finally gather enough strength to lift his head again, the girls were involved in a deep, wet kiss and Hermione was smearing a drop of semen across Lavender’s cheek. Some small part of his brain was screaming for chocolate and vanilla Coke, but he was ignoring it. Nothing in the world could compare with the sight before him. Hermione broke the kiss and moved around to kiss Lavender’s ear.
Lavender smiled and crawled up to Ron. She didn’t hesitate; she leaned in and fastened her lips to his. He pushed up and kissed her back. Her tongue invaded his mouth and he reveled in the feel of it. Her lips were thicker than Hermione’s, and she sucked on his lips as she kissed him. When she pulled away he was breathless, and collapsed back to the bed.
*
“Hermione, I’m disappointed. You said he’d hold out longer than that.” Lavender looked down at Ron’s long form. She could see exactly why Hermione was so jealously protective of him, he was a good-looking man and rather impressive in his own rights. She sighed inwardly at having let him get away so easily. It turned out Hermione had been the smartest of the girls in their year after all, and not just book smart either.
“I’m still here,” Ron said in a slightly injured voice.
“Are you going to go down and get something to drink?” Hermione asked. Lavender knew from their afternoon conversation that he probably would, the girls were actually planning on it.
“Are you kidding? I might miss something.” Lavender stifled a snicker; he was such a boy.
“Hey loverboy,” Lavender blew in his ear. “There’s a bottle of champagne in the icebox; why don’t you be a dear and go get it and three glasses.” To punctuate her request she reached down and tickled his ribs. She was rewarded with an expostulation as he jumped up out of bed.
“That’s not fair! You’re not supposed to know about that spot.”
“Ron, every girl in Gryffindor tower knew about that spot. It’s a Weasley family trait.” He shook his head and left the room.
“Inevitably,” Hermione sighed. “The one time I need him to be predictable he throws me a curve.” Lavender laughed, but stopped when she felt small, cool hands on her legs. She smiled, gone was the shy, timid girl that she had taught to kiss so many years ago. She had been replaced by a woman that was confident and savvy, not to mention dead sexy. Hermione’s eyes were filled with lust as she pulled Lavender into a prone position. She felt a tongue tease over a nipple. She returned the favor to the nipple above her. There was a soft sigh in response.
As much as she wanted to enjoy this and take her time, Hermione wasn’t giving her much chance. The lithe woman slithered over her body, trailing kisses over her stomach and into her bush. She laid her head back and sighed as a tongue swept over her. She brought her knees up and spread her legs wide. She let out a surprised gasp as Hermione’s tongue opened her folds and sought her clit. “Slow down dear. Like this.”
She raised up her head and kissed the inside of Hermione’s thigh. She placed several more kisses that approached her target, but she passed over it without any special attention and kissed her way down the other thigh. She began tracing figure eights with her tongue back along the path she had just kissed. Her lover let out a pleasant moan and began to lightly tease her lips with a slow, wet tongue. “Yes, just like that. Take your time. Do what you like to have done.”
Lavender would have liked to have a one on one session, just so that they could a get a feel for each other, but Hermione had been adamant about not doing that. It struck Lavender as odd that they could be so devoted to each other and yet still do things like threesomes. Usually, such monogamy didn’t go hand in hand with sexual adventurism, but then Hermione and Ron had been a couple that defied convention for a long time.
With a little prompting, Hermione fell into a rhythm that Lavender liked very much. She would suck on her lips, kiss around them, run a tongue over them and inside her, and then slide up though her folds until Hermione’s tongue pressed against her clit. There it would tease, and press, and flick. Then the whole process would reverse itself. Lavender luxuriated in this. She had to admit she missed this part of swinging. Nobody ate pussy like another woman. Men suffered from too short an attention span to really do a great job of it.
Once she had gotten used to the rise and fall of her lover’s tempo and intensity, she moved to return the favor. She placed her hands on the other woman’s hips and pulled herself up. She ran her tongue along the folds of the opening before her. Hermione’s cheeks were spread wide and her lips gapped open just a bit. Lavender grinned to herself, wondering if Hermione had ever experienced what she was about to do to her. She ran a tongue around the perimeter of her folds again, but this time she brought her tongue up higher and rimmed the other girl. She wasn’t disappointed.
“Whoa, what was that?” Hermione exclaimed as she rocked forward.
“Did you like it?”
“I, I don’t know.” She sounded nervous. “It surprised me too much.” Lavender pulled her backwards again.
“I’m going to do it again. Relax, feel it. Tell me if you like it.” She ran her tongue over and around the sensitive, puckered skin. When she blew across it, Hermione shivered. She was panting. “Like that, did you?”
“I, I think so, but it just, I just can’t get over, you know.”
“It’s okay dear, it’s not for everyone.” Lavender lowered herself back down and focused her tongue on the pussy before her. She liked the way Hermione moaned. She made an awful lot of noise, but it wasn’t faked or forced. She had never really had to be quiet though either. Lavender, on the other hand, had to learn very quickly to be quiet so as not to disturb her dorm-mates or her parents. It had become habit to stifle her moans and cries of ecstasy. Hermione suffered from no such handicap.
She was beginning to wonder what could possibly be taking Ron so long. She thought about saying something, then Hermione sucked her clit into her mouth and Lavender let out a loud moan that she couldn’t have stopped if she’d wanted to. Her head flopped back onto the bed and she gave into the feeling that was coursing through her. Her lover was a very quick study and had an excellent, if slightly unusual, technique. She raised her hips and let Hermione’s mouth wrap around her quim before she came with a shudder and a cry.
When she opened her eyes again, she was looking at the door. Silhouetted in the doorway was a tall form, slowly stroking his erect penis. Lavender motioned him over. He walked over slowly, the bottle of champagne still in his other hand. Lavender returned her focus to the quivering sexpot above her. She drew Hermione’s swollen lips into her mouth one at a time. Then she attacked with her tongue. One thing she had learned from sleeping with men was how to push an orgasm. She preferred the longer, more luxurious time spent, but Ron was starting to look a little impatient as he watched her intently.
Lavender pressed her tongue to Hermione’s clit and started flicking back and forth over it. It didn’t take long until Hermione was calling out, thrashing her head back and forth as she screamed into Lavender’s crotch. With a controlled, deliberate move, Lavender indicated to Ron that she wanted him to pour the champagne down the crack of Hermione’s ass, so that it would trickle into her mouth.
“Hyah!” Hermione screamed as the cold champagne poured down over her. Lavender mashed her tongue against her screaming lover’s clit and rubbed it with force as the liquid spilled into her open mouth. Then the flow stopped. Ron leaned over and applied his own lips and teeth to Hermione’s bum as he slid a finger into her. Apparently, the multiple sensations were more than she could handle and she began to cry out. She came in a flood of juices that, in Lavender’s opinion, mixed very well with champagne.
Hermione rolled off of her after several seconds. Lavender took several deep breaths and started to sit up. Before she could move though, she felt lips crushing against her own. She understood now what Hermione’s sly smiles had meant when they were in school. Ron was an amazing kisser. He kissed without mercy, his tongue seemed to be everywhere at once and his lips were powerful. She had read about men who kissed like this, usually in trashy romance novels. They were usually pirates, or adventurers, or the bad guy or something like that. They weren’t Quidditch team managers, and never the husband of your school friend.
She felt Hermione’s warm flesh pressing against the two of them. For a moment she had forgotten it wasn’t just her and this amazing set of lips. Ron shifted over and she felt Hermione’s lips and tongue intrude into the amazing kiss. Now that she could breathe again though, she kissed back with vigor. Her tongue would slide from Ron’s mouth to Hermione’s, and then the two of them would take turns sliding down to kiss at her neck, or her ears, or her breasts. She tried to do the same, but one of them was always claiming her lips, not that this was a bad thing. Finally, Ron pulled away.
“Honey,” Lavender heard the sound of a smacking, wet kiss. “The only thing better than tasting you is tasting you on another woman.” Lavender opened her eyes, sure she was going to see Ron smacked for that one. She would have belted Seamus, and they had been confirmed swingers. She found the two of them deep in a kiss though, Hermione’s hands running through his hair as his arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer.
Lavender sighed and traced slow fingers over their skin. Oh, to be kissed like that again. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been kissed like that: deeply, passionately, with longing and desire. As well as Ron had kissed her, she knew she wasn’t getting the full effect. Finally, when she’d had enough, she coughed loudly and Ron and Hermione broke apart with a bit of embarrassment. “I’d tell you two to get a room, but we’re already here.”
*
Ron chuckled at Lavender’s joke; it was kind of funny. It was also a little ironic, considering how many times she had said it when they were all younger. She and Harry were like a broken record sometimes, “Get a room. People are trying not to be sick here. Oh God, not again.” He stopped laughing though and looked down at the naked form of Lavender for the first time that night. She was very sexy. His wife had a tight, compact body; but Lavender’s was rounder, softer, and fuller. She was like Botticelli’s ‘Venus’ with blonde hair and large breasts.
She shifted under his gaze and gave him a slight smile. “Like what you see?” He did, very much, thank you. He was also very conscious of the fact that he was still holding his wife, whilst lusting after the body spread out below him. He looked Hermione in the eye and nodded toward Lavender. She seemed to consider him for a long moment, as though trying to decide whether she was really going to share him. She had said when they first discussed this that she didn’t want to share, but Ron hoped she’d be more willing. What’s good for the goose, and all that.
Hermione reached down and ran a finger over Lavender’s wet slit, making the other woman sigh pleasantly. She stuck the finger in her mouth and sucked on it. His eyes were transfixed; his wife was such a sex kitten. “She’s ready for you,” she said in a husky whisper. Ron smiled like a wolf finding a solitary lamb. He kissed his wife again, then stretched himself out over the top of Lavender.
He lowered his head slowly, and his lips claimed hers. She was soft, but her lips pulled at his with phenomenal strength. He slid his tongue forward, this time though she sucked it in and caught it lightly between her teeth. He pushed farther into her mouth as he lowered the rest of his body down on to her. Her breasts pushed against him and he felt her legs come up outside his own. They wrapped around his and squeezed just a bit.
He moved his head lower and kissed her neck. She rolled her head to the side to give him greater access, but he was looking for a better response than that. He kissed his way along her neck looking for that one spot. Hermione’s was just below the ear, so he started there. On Lavender, he found it at the base of her neck just above the collarbone, near the front. When he wrapped his lips around it and sucked, she arched underneath him and pulled him down as she let out a mighty “Ohhhh!”
Ron continued to work the spot, not releasing his grip as he nibbled and licked and sucked. He raised his hips just a bit, and felt a delicate hand slide along his length from behind. The hand stroked just a bit as it rubbed the head of his cock against his target. The legs wrapped around his own pulled up higher and wrapped around his waist. Now that she was fully ready for him, he thrust his hips forward into her. She moaned out again as he slid all the way into her.
Lavender’s hands slid around his back and her nails grazed over him lightly, as he took long, deep strokes into her. He went for the spot on her neck again, and this time she all but lifted herself up off the bed trying to pull him closer. He released her neck and pushed himself up. Hermione nudged into the space he had created between himself and Lavender and drew one of Lavender’s long, stiff nipples into her mouth.
Ron still couldn’t get over how sexy it was to see his wife pleasing another woman. He lost his rhythm as Lavender moaned and pulled Hermione to her breast. Ron pushed himself into a fully upright position and took hold of Lavender’s ankles. Her legs were spread in a great ‘V’ now and he began to take long strokes into her.
“Put a pillow under my arse,” Lavender said between pants. He reached over, grabbed one and stuffed it up under the small of her back. His strokes were long and she moaned with every one now. He shifted forward so that he could drive deeper. When he did he was rewarded with a gasp, a small cry, and a shouted “yes!” He began to take faster strokes now, but made sure he pushed far enough forward on each one that she gave that small cry.
After a few minutes of this, Hermione shifted positions and straddled Lavender’s face. Ron let out a groan of excitement and appreciation. He watched his wife lean back just a bit and spread her folds open so that her clit was exposed. He was trying to figure out how he could get a finger on it while still keeping Lavender spread when he saw a tongue slither up and press against it. He shouted again and started pounding Lavender even harder and faster.
This didn’t last long though, as Hermione leaned forward and reached up to pull Ron’s mouth to hers. He went willingly and his wife’s mouth pulled on his own, kissing greedily as he tried to maintain a good rhythm of motion into Lavender. “I want you to fuck me from behind,” she said into his mouth as she kissed him.
“That would be my pleasure,” Ron said, “but what is she going to say about that?”
“Doesn’t matter. My bed, my husband, my rules,” she whispered into his ear before biting him. Ron slid out of Lavender; a development that she seemed most displeased about. Hermione lifted up off of her, turned around, and slid down between Lavender’s legs. “Is this what you wanted, honey?” she asked as she lifted up her hips and wriggled her arse at him. As he watched, she brought Lavender’s legs up and wrapped her mouth around the other girl’s pussy.
“Oh my God, that is sexy!” he said as he got behind his wife and slid into her with a long, hard stroke.
“Ah, take it easy there cowboy,” Lavender said. “You’re not trying to drive her skull into me. Take long, easy strokes so that she can do what she does so… yes! Just like that Hermione. Just. Like. That.” Ron took a slow stoke into his wife. She moaned, causing Lavender to moan as well. Ron found a speed that everyone liked. It was just fast enough that Hermione was moaning with every stroke he made, but not so fast that she couldn’t make Lavender moan and writhe under her mouth.
Within minutes, Lavender was crying out that she was coming. Ron nestled his hips up against his wife’s and ground against her so that she could concentrate strictly on making their other lover orgasm. Finally, Lavender squirmed away from Hermione’s mouth, unable to take the exquisite torture anymore. “Does it always taste that good?” Hermione asked. Ron reached down and pulled her upright, his cock almost, but not completely, sliding out of her as he did.
“Let me find out,” he replied with a devilish grin. He pulled his wife’s back against his chest and leaned forward so that he could kiss her deeply. His arms wrapped around her and groped her as they made out. “Yes, it does,” he said when they finally broke apart again. “You’re turn now.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Lavender concurred, sliding back down the bed. Ron took hold of her thighs and pulled her over to him. Her ankles were up on his shoulders. He looked down at her and grinned. She gave him an inquiring look. He lifted her hips up with one hand and guided himself to her entrance with his other. She made a contented little sigh as his head poked in. He glanced at his wife, who was watching him with a look that could almost be called impatience.
He looked down at Lavender again, and slid home in one long stroke. Ron was pleased by her reaction, an open mouthed silent scream that ended in a squeak. He pulled back and did it again. Her breath started coming in labored gasps and every exhale sounded like “oh.” He loved this position with his wife, she screamed her loudest when he bent her in half with her legs trapped under his chest.
However, if it was good with his wife, it was nothing short of amazing with Lavender. Lavender’s thighs were thicker and her arse a little more padded. As Ron began stroking in and out of her faster and harder, her body gave him something to push against without stabbing him for his efforts. Their bodies were slapping together loudly; Ron was pushing himself to see how deep he could get inside her. With every forward thrust she let out a small cry.
Then he was facing his wife as she straddled Lavender’s face. “Other way,” he heard Lavender say. Hermione leaned forward and gave him a wet kiss, then complied. He could see Lavender’s hands gliding up and over Hermione’s body. Both women seemed to be enjoying each other immensely, but Lavender continued to buck her hips against Ron. He gave as good as he got though, and started pounding her hard and fast, using his wife’s hips for leverage. Lavender accidentally ‘kicked’ Hermione a couple of times, and Ron had hold back on his thrusts to avoid doing it again.
Lavender didn’t seem particularly pleased with this idea though. She pulled Hermione forward so that she was bent over, though never stopped licking. Ron was so caught up in watching Lavender’s tongue play over his wife’s pussy that he actually lost track of what he was doing. “Don’t stop now loverboy,” Lavender said. Ron cleared his head, and slid into her with a slap of skin on skin. “Oh yes, like that.”
He watched as Lavender’s hands raked and caressed his wife’s thighs and buttocks. She dragged her nails through the gap between the globes of Hermione’s arse. He watched with amazement as the muscle in the center puckered in, pushed out, and puckered in again. His wife let out a soft moan. “Do that again,” Ron said. Lavender slowly pulled her index fingers back along the trail and tickled lightly.
“Oo, oh yes.” Hermione said in a low voice, strangled as though she was fighting the sensation. One finger stayed there to tickle and tease, while the other dipped down into her pussy. Ron could see that the finger was covered with juices. Ron watched as she smeared them around the flexing sphincter, then pushed in just a bit. Hermione shrieked and moaned.
That was the trigger that Ron’s body couldn’t deny, he was going to cum, and soon. He adjusted his hands on Hermione’s hips; then he started pounding in and out of Lavender. She let out a string of strangled gasps and screams, Ron could tell she was holding back. That was one thing that he just couldn’t have. He redoubled his efforts, pushing his toes hard into the mattress. “Scream for me Lavender, let me hear you,” he growled. He pushed with everything he had.
“Aieeeee!” was her vocal response as her body went taut beneath him. It was all he needed. His eyes scrunched shut and he shot deep inside her with a loud groan. After several long seconds he finally reclaimed conscious control of his body. Lavender still had her hands on Hermione’s arse, kneading the muscles there and lightly scratching the skin.
Without pulling out, since he still had some life in the old boy yet, he pushed himself up a bit and pulled Lavender’s legs out so that she could lay them along his legs, and squeeze his thighs. He leaned forward. His wife was moaning and groaning. He could tell by the tone that she was both very excited and very frustrated. Lavender was trying to pull out of where she was, but Ron placed a finger on her chin. “Give her your best, Lav. We’re gonna make her peel the paint off the walls.”
“Oh really,” came his wife’s voice. “Oh, oh, oh, Oh God!” Ron smiled in his mind. He had no idea what Lavender was doing with her tongue, but he knew she had a finger inside her. He knew this because he did also. However, the bulk of his attention was focused on his tongue and mouth as he swirled his tongue over his wife’s anus. He pushed against it as it opened and closed. She started making a lot of noise when he closed his lips around it.
He wasn’t quite sure what he should be doing or how he should be doing it, but he knew that his wife was enjoying it. This excited him; it had been a while since they had discovered something new that just the two of them could do. He blew across the wet skin and she shivered as the skin of her bum puckered up in gooseflesh. He moved in again and kissed her hard, then stabbed his tongue forward and swirled it around again. Now that he felt he had a handle on the technique, he began working the finger that was inside her pussy as well.
Hermione began to call out, begging them not to stop. Ron pushed a second finger into her, now that Lavender had removed hers. He felt her clench around his fingers. He shoved his pointed tongue hard against her sphincter and she screamed. Her orgasm was long, loud, and wet. He didn’t let up though, and apparently neither did Lavender. Soon she was squirming and trying to get away from their tongues and fingers. It wasn’t that easy though; they each had a free hand to hold her in place. They finally relented when she rolled over and curled up against the brass headboard.
Ron leaned down and bestowed a quick kiss on Lavender, then pulled out of her and crawled over to his wife. He leaned down and kissed her. Slowly, she uncurled and wrapped herself around him. He felt Lavender’s warm, lush body push up against his back. The girls were settling down, he could feel it, Hermione’s breathing was already slow and regular. Lavender’s kisses on his shoulder were getting softer and farther between. “Either of you girls hungry?” Lavender’s response was a simple, ‘huh?’
“No you aren’t,” his wife mumbled. “You’re staying here to cuddle with me.” Lavender made a noise of indignation. “Us. Whatever.” Ron grinned; his wife could be so cute sometimes. “If you’re craving chocolate then there’s some in the drawer of my nightstand.” He was way beyond chocolate, he needed a cheeseburger- with bacon, and maybe chili. She kissed him lightly. “Why don’t you be a good boy and tuck us girls in.”
“Okay dear.” Ron decided he wouldn’t say anything about the fact that it was just barely nine o’clock on a Friday night. He fluffed the covers over them, gave them each a kiss and prepared to head for the kitchen. He was going to have a cheeseburger, probably two. Hopefully the girls would be ready to get up when he got back.
“Happy Birthday, honey,” the girls both said. They giggled sleepily. Lavender rolled over and cuddled up next to his wife, her hand covering Hermione’s tangle of soft hairs. Then again, he could eat later.
——————-
It was a red-letter day at the Burrow as they celebrated Ron’s birthday. Almost everyone had managed to make it home. Ron was sitting at the head of the massive picnic table that had been set up; the place normally given to his father. Percy had just finished leading everyone through a rousing round of “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” that had been punctuated by a host of rude remarks and small explosions. Cake was being served and people were wandering around and talking.
“Can I give a keess to ze birsday boy?” came a voice from behind him. He spun around to see a short, thin woman with long sheets of silvery blonde hair. She smiled at him and he felt his knees turn to water.
“Fleur?” he said, dumbstruck.
“Hallo again, Ronald. Eet haz been some time, no?”
‘Breathe,’ Ron told himself. “Yes it has, ten years I think. I’m surprised you remember me. Who are you here with?” He began to fidget with his wedding ring, as was his habit when he was nervous. He hoped that Fleur would catch the implied hint.
“Bill invited me to come wis him. We have been seeing each ozzer for a while now.”
“Lucky dog,” he said before he could stop himself. She blushed a slight pink in her cheeks. Ron was shocked; the Fleur he remembered was way too cool to blush. “Sorry.”
“It eez of no moment. You are still very sweet.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled him down slightly. She stood on tiptoe and placed light kisses on each of his cheeks.
“Ron.”
‘Shit!’ Ron mentally cursed the fates. His wife did not sound happy. He wondered how it was she always managed to appear at just that moment when something innocent like a ‘Hi, how are you?’ could be construed as something nefarious. “Hi, honey.” His voice cracked. “You remember Fleur?”
“Pleasure.” Ron winced; he knew he was so dead.
“Fleur, this is my wife, Hermione Weasley.”
“Yes, I remember. Last time I saw you, you were wis Viktor Krum, no?”
“I traded up,” Hermione said in a very cold tone, as she placed a possessive hand on Ron’s arm and closed the space between them.
“Yes, you did.” Fleur shot a very knowing smile at Hermione. “Could you please introduce me to ze ozzer wives? I don’t know any of zem, and Bill seems to haf abandoned me for ze moment.”
“Other wives?” Hermione asked with a questioning look. Fleur held out her hand like she was letting them in on a great secret. She was wearing an intricate gold band with a beautiful marquis cut diamond. Hermione’s expression brightened considerably. Ron whistled, this girl was smooth; the ring was very nice too.
“Please don’t say anysing,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “I sink Bill is planning on making an announcement later.” She slipped off the ring and tucked it in her pocket. Hermione led her away and Ron went to go find Bill.
*
Hermione didn’t know whether to hate Fleur, or to admire her. She had been non-plussed by the relatively cold reception she received from the other women. However, her expression had shown that she was not oblivious to it. Then, in a coup de grace that any Roman general would have admired, she asked the perfect questions about how to deal with Molly and the relationship she had with her boys and their wives. Instantly, the rest of the girls had warmed to her and been full of advice and anecdotes. Even Hermione had been pulled in against her preferences, and offered some rather interesting views on mothering the Weasley boys.
“Is zere any reason ze birsday boy should be sleeping during his own party?” Fleur asked, pointing to where Ron was sleeping in the hammock. Angelina’s face split into a most wicked grin.
“Girls,” she said in a very let’s-go-looking-for-trouble kind of voice, “let’s go give Ickle Ronniekins his birthday spankings.” Alicia, Katie, Ginny, and Hermione giggled in a rather evil way that some might see as cause to call the girls ‘witches.’ Fleur looked appropriately shocked and Penny sighed, shook her head, and rolled her eyes.
“Let me go wake him up first,” Hermione said in a conspiratorial tone. She was careful not to make any noise as she approached her sleeping husband. “Honey,” she whispered very close to his ear. He made a noise that indicated he had heard her, but was still half-asleep. “Is there a reason you’re whipping the weasel in front of the whole family?”
“What!” The hammock spun over and Ron crashed to the ground. Hermione laughed at her husband then tried to smother it. She failed.
“Considering that I was dreaming about my other birthday party,” Ron growled out in a low voice, “that wasn’t very funny. I could very well have been doing it.” Hermione blushed. Then the laughter overcame her again as the other wives joined her.
“Ronnie fall down go boom?” Alicia teased him.
“Ha, ha.” Ron sat up and his wife and sister pulled him to his feet. “Thank you sweetie. Yeow!” he yelped as Hermione smacked his bum, hard.
“Two!” Ginny crowed as she smacked him as well. Hermione and Ginny still had hold of him, and they bent him over as Alicia, and then Angelina took their swings. The girls chided Fleur until finally she took a swat on him as well. They cheered, although Fleur rubbed her hand and complained about how bony he was.
“That’s because you did it wrong dear,” Penny said with authority. “You do it like this.” Her hand came down and all the other girls gasped at the loud smack her hand made on him. Ron yelped, this time in pain instead of surprise. “You have to hit them where the meat is,” she said as an off-hand remark. “Now, try it again.”
Hermione was wondering if Ron was okay as Fleur stepped up behind him. She brought her hand down and Ron gave a satisfying grunt. Hermione leaned over and kissed him, he was such a good sport, and she told him so.
“What are you girls doing?” Molly asked. Ginny and Hermione both blushed and the other girls, except Penny, giggled.
“Birthday spankings,” Penny said as though the answer were obvious. “Hermione said he’s been needing them.” Hermione’s jaw dropped in shock; she had said no such thing. As she looked around, the rest of the girls were trying to cover their surprise as well. “Want to take a couple of whacks, Mum? Heaven knows, you probably owe him more than a couple.” Molly asked Penny to hold her glass.
“So, what number are we on dears?”
“Seven, Mum.”
“Seven huh.” She gave him a solid thwack, though it was nowhere near as solid as Penny’s had been. “Eight is for the hell you gave me when it was just you, Fred and George after Perce went away to school. Nine is for being such a monster when you were the ‘Man in the House’ after Fred and George left to go to school.” She thought for a moment. “Ten,” her hand made a loud smack on his rump, “is for general purposes, though I should probably have let Ginny have that one because you were so horrible to her that year.”
Hermione noticed that Ginny was blushing. “He wasn’t all that bad, Mum; but I am taking the next one.” She reached back and gave Ron a solid smack. “Eleven is the year you left me.”
Hermione stood him up and gave him what amounted to a love pat and kissed him. “Twelve is the year you stole my heart.” There was a collective ‘aww,’ and Hermione answered the question of what that moment was. “True love is when a man belches slugs for you. He was so gallant then.” She kissed him again. “We won’t talk about the fact that it took you another four years to get it right though, will we?” The women all laughed as Ron tried in vain to defend himself.
Penny took thirteen, as punishment for catching her and Percy kissing in the broomshed and then telling everyone about it. Fleur took fourteen, so that she could tease him about asking her to the Yule Ball. Everyone laughed, though Hermione had to force hers just a bit. Angelina took fifteen, so that she could congratulate Ron for having made the house Quidditch team. Alicia took sixteen, so she could remind everyone about the “sweet sixteen” party she and his brothers had organized for him. Ginny took seventeen, because Ron had made such a big deal about teasing her for being “Sweet Sixteen,” and then getting Harry to kiss her in front of everyone, making them an official couple.
Eighteen was delivered by Molly, because that was the year he moved out on his own, leaving
her without any boys in the house. Penny took number nineteen with special pleasure, because Ron had embarrassed her and Percy at their wedding with the story about catching them kissing in said broom shed. His wife delivered twenty as a deep, sweet kiss because that was the year he had proposed to her. She finished it off with a pinch that she hoped would bruise, like he had given her when she turned twenty-one. Angelina and Alicia delivered the next two, just because. Harry delivered a swift kick in the ass that he counted as number twenty-four; Fred and George thought that was a marvelous idea and followed suit. Katie took a shot since she hadn’t had a turn yet. Finally, for number twenty-eight, all the women dropped a simultaneous smack onto him as his father and brothers stood around cheering them on.
Lastly, each of the girls gave him a kiss and wished him well for the coming year. His response was only a wish that he might be able to sit down some time in the next six months without being reminded of their well wishes. Everyone laughed and someone pressed a drink into his hand for a toast. He was having such a good time that he forgot to ask where it had come from.
Unfortunately, it had come from Fred and George’s private stash, but even he laughed about it once he was back to normal again.